Note to the reader: This month marks the 150th anniversary
of the incorporation of the General Conference and thus the official establishment
of the Seventh-day Adventist church. The year 2013 has been set aside to commemorate
this century and a half with reflection and recommitment to our mission and
reason for existence. It is in this spirit that this essay was written.

Throughout a century and a half of existence, Seventh-day Adventists
most basic, fundamental, identifying passage of Scripture has been Revelation
12:17:

And
the dragon was wroth with the woman, and went to
make war with the remnant of her seed, which keep the
commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus
Christ.

In this text the movers of this movement
ascertained a prophecy of who they were, their place in history, and what was
occurring around them in the great controversy.

God's people are presented as a metaphorical
woman—specifically after 1798 the "last of her children"—whom the
dragon, the sworn perpetual adversary of God and his church, was furious with
and would wage war against. This remnant or last piece would be identified dually:

They would obey God's commandments, and possess
the testimony of Jesus Christ.

Revelation 12:17 was always quoted as a couplet
with Revelation 19:10:

The
testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.

The spirit of prophecy: God's remnant would be
characterized as a people of prophecy, a movement based on prophecy, a church
founded on prophecy, recognizing itself in the forward pronouncements of Daniel
and Revelation, warning the world of what was to come.

And so the great second advent movement arose from
a renewed focus on Daniel, especially chapters 8 and 9. After 1844 the last phase of Christ's work in
the heavenly sanctuary was emphasized, embedded in His final warning message to
the world delivered in Revelation 14.

God's remnant would have the spirit of prophecy;
they would be actuated and animated by Bible prophecy; and they would be
forward thinking to the final scenes Jesus testified of in Revelation.

But there is another aspect to this spirit of
prophecy. As with His chosen people
Israel, and the early Christian church, God’s pleasure was to have an ongoing
conversation with His children. By
speaking to select individuals, he would convey to His contemporary believers
His will, information, correction, love.

And so, the people of the great second advent
movement were blessed by communications from God via select persons. We have
always primarily identified one individual, Ellen White, as being the vessel
through whom this occurred. And indeed
she was.

But in an interview with her assistant Dores
Robinson on August 13, 1906, Ellen White recalled that numerous people held
prophetic status at one discreet time or another.[i] In the frenetic final phase of the Millerite
movement, and right after when believers were disappointed to the point of heart wrench, God needed to give His people
abundant evidence that He was ever near them when the world was against
them. And so He communicated to them in sundry
times and in divers manners, simultaneously delivering His tailor-made message
to them for that time, and by doing so affirming the prophecy of Revelation
12:17.

There was the Baptist minister Elder Brown, a
feeble man, who recognized the power of God, and on whom the Spirit
rested. While the gathering prayed, he
would lose strength, Ellen White recalled, "just as I did," and at
the moment when the believers thought he was dead he would proclaim
"Glory" and praise God.

Once the Spirit fell upon two men called Harris
and Rich and resultantly many were converted.

What about old Father Pearson? Pearson had rheumatism and rubbed alcohol on
his arms and legs for relief. One day
Robert Harmon, Ellen White's father, visited him to deliver a bottle of alcohol
to his house and the power of God came on the Pearson family and no strength
remained in them. The Pearsons did
nothing but pray and prophesy, while Robert Harmon retreated with the alcohol.

But the first major prophet, if you will, of the
advent movement—the initial in a triptych that comprehended the major
demographics in the Northeast at the time: black, white, and female—was one William Ellis Foy.

William was born in a rural setting, just north of
Augusta, Maine, in 1818, to African American parents, Joseph and Elizabeth Foy.
As was often the case during that time, the Foys lived among a small collective
of black families, and owned real estate which they farmed. Foy converted to
Christianity at age 17 at which time he learned to read and felt called to the
ministry. He married, and he and his wife Ann had a daughter, in 1840 moving to
the historic Beacon Hill district in Boston where he set out to obtain
credentials for the Episcopalian clergy. It was around this time in Boston that
Foy became acquainted with Millerite teachings.
Although initially averse to it, Foy soon embraced the doctrine of the
advent.

William Foy had his first prophetic experience
during a religious gathering on January 18, 1842, at age 23, in the Twelfth
Street Baptist church on Southark Street.
In this vision Foy was given a tour of the Christian's heaven, unfolding
its remarkable sights and impressions. After beholding the unspeakable glories
of heaven, Foy sank into depression and despondency, feeling that he should
share what he had seen (even though his "guide," never explicitly
told him to), but not doing so.

Foy had a similar vision not much later on
February 4, 1842, at the African Methodist Episcopal church in Beacon Hill in
Boston. This time the sanctuary was
standing room only, and Foy, giving up his seat to a friend, "immediately
fell to the floor, and knew nothing about this body, until twelve hours and a
half had passed away, as I was afterward informed." This vision depicted a solemn judgment scene
in which some whom Foy knew were refused entrance into heaven. Juxtaposed with this was a subsequent awesome
scene of those who entered heaven in surreal panoply. This time Foy's guide instructed him to share
what he had witnessed.

William Foy again entered a state of upset,
struggling with thoughts of inadequacy and trepidation when considering the
social condition of blacks in the United States at the time: "...knowing
the prejudice among the people against those of my color, it became very
crossing." Nevertheless, when asked
to relate his visions, Foy complied; his first engagement at the Broomfield
Street Church on February 6 was an ordeal for him, but he survived it and soon,
similar to the reluctant William Miller years earlier, Foy's calendar was
booked with speaking appointments to large crowds.

After three months, fearing that his family was
not being provided for, Foy began "to work, laboring with my hands"
for another three month period, but "could find no rest day nor night,
until again I consented to do my duty."
Foy commenced touring, attesting that although he "suffered
persecution," his guide was with him.

William Foy had a third vision in which three
fiery steps ascended up a pathway; on each step were multitudes of people who
begin falling off into oblivion while some advanced to heaven.

The content of Foy's fourth vision is unknown,
although Ellen White adamantly insisted in her 1906 interview that Foy had four
and she might have been privy to the details of the final revelation now lost
to us.

It is truly fascinating to read Ellen White's
recollections some 60 years after those all-consuming Millerite years:

"Then another time, there was Foy that had
had visions. He had had four visions. He was in a large congregation, very
large. He fell right to the floor. I do not know what they were doing in there,
whether they were listening to preaching or not. But at any rate he fell to the
floor. I do not know how long he was [down]—about three quarters of a hour, I
think—and he had all these [visions] before I had them. They were written out
and published, and it is queer that I cannot find them in any of my books. But
we have moved so many times. He had four.

Robinson: Did you ever have an interview with him?

White: I had an interview with him. He wanted to
see me, and I talked with him a little. They had appointed for me to speak that
night, and I did not know that he was there. I did not know at first that he
was there. While I was talking I heard a shout, and he is a great, tall man,
and the roof was rather low, and he jumped right up and down, and oh, he
praised the Lord, praised the Lord. It was just what he had seen, just what he
had seen. But they extolled him so I think it hurt him, and I do not know what
became of him.

His wife was so anxious. She sat looking at him,
so that it disturbed him. "Now," said he, "you must not get
where you can look at me when I am speaking." He had on an Episcopalian
robe. His wife sat by the side of me. She kept moving about and putting her
head behind me. What does she keep moving about so for? We found out when he
came to his wife. "I did as you told me to," said she. "I hid
myself. I did as you told me to." (So that he should not see her face.)
She would be so anxious, repeating the words right after him with her lips.
After the meeting was ended, and he came to look her up, she said to him,
"I hid myself. You didn't see me." He was a very tall man, slightly
colored. But it was remarkable testimonies that he bore.

I always sat right close by the stand. I know what
I sat there for now. It hurt me to breathe, and with the breaths all around me
I knew I could breathe easier right by the stand, so I always took my station.

Robinson: Then you attended the lectures that Mr.
Foy gave?

White: He came to give it right to the hall, in
the great hall where we attended, Beethoven Hall. That was quite a little time
after the visions. It was in Portland, Maine. We went over to Cape Elizabeth to
hear him lecture. Father always took me with him when we went, and he would be
going in a sleigh, and he would invite me to get in, and I would ride with
them. That was before I got any way acquainted with him.

Robinson: Where did you see him first?

White: It was there, at Beethoven Hall. They lived
near the bridge where we went over to Cape Elizabeth, the family did."[ii]

Another Adventist pioneer, John Loughborough,
provides even greater detail on the impact of William Foy:

In
the year 1842 there was living in Boston, Mass., a well-educated man by the
name of William Foy, who was an eloquent speaker. He was a Baptist, but was preparing to take
holy orders as an Episcopal minister.
The Lord graciously gave him two visions in the year 1842, one on the
18th of January, the other on February 4.
These visions bore clear evidence of being genuine manifestations of the
Spirit of God. He was invited from place
to place to speak in the pulpits, not be Episcopalians only, but by the
Baptists and other denominations. When
he spoke, he always wore the clergyman’s robe, such as the ministers of that
church wear in their services.

Mr.
Foy’s visions related to the near advent of Christ, the travels of the people
of God to the heavenly city, the new earth, and the glories of the redeemed
state. Having a good command of
language, with fine descriptive powers, he created a sensation wherever he
went. By invitation he went from city to
city to tell of the wonderful things he had seen; and in order to accommodate
the cast crowds who assembled to hear him, large halls were secured, where he
related to thousands what had been shown him of the heavenly world, the
loveliness of the New Jerusalem, and of the angelic hosts. When dwelling on the tender, compassionate
love of Christ for poor sinners, he exhorted the unconverted to seek God, and
scores responded to his entreaties.

His
work continued until the year 1844, near the close of the twenty-three hundred
days. Then he was favored with another
manifestation of the Holy Spirit—a third vision, one which he did not
understand. In this he was shown the
pathway of the people of God through to the heavenly city. He saw a great platform, or step, on which
multitudes of people gathered.
Occasionally, one would drop through this platform out of sight, and of
such a one it was said to him, “Apostatized.”
Then he saw the people rise to a second step, or platform, and some
there also dropped through the platform out of sight. Finally a third platform appeared, which
extended to the gates of the holy city.
A great company gathered with those who had advanced to this
platform. As he expected the Lord Jesus
to come in a very short time, he failed to recognize the fact that a third
message was to follow the first and second messages of Revelation 14. Consequently the vision was to him
inexplainable, and he ceased public speaking.
After the close of the prophetic period, in the year 1845, he heard
another relate the same vision, with the explanation that “the first and second
messages had been given, and that a third was to follow.” Soon after Mr. Foy sickened and died.

With
such manifestations of the power of God in connection with the preaching of his
coming “at the doors,” and with the rejoicing of thousands who were turning
from sin to serve the Lord, and to wait for his coming, the people were doubly
assured that this was indeed the Lord’s message to the world.”[iii]

William Foy did not die shortly after 1845,
however. Instead he lived roughly a half
century longer.

In 1845 William Foy collaborated with two
Millerite brothers, John and Charles Pearson—sons of the aforementioned
one-time prophet Father Pearson and minor pioneers in their own right—and
published the 24 page pamphlet, The
Christian Experience of William E. Foy in which Foy shares his conversion
experience and then describes his first two visions. On the last page is a testimonial of ten
individuals vouching for the authenticity of Foy's visions, as well as a copy
of his certificate of church membership, persuasive bona fides in that day.[iv]

Taking residence alternately in Augusta, Maine;
New Bedford, Massachusetts; and Chelsea, Maine, Foy, like William Miller,
Joshua Himes, and many other notable Millerites, never became a Sabbatarian or
Seventh-day Adventist, but instead pastored interracial and predominately white
Baptist congregations. Foy ultimately
had 3 children: Amelia, Lauraitta (1856) and Orrin (1852); and three wives:
Ann, Caroline Griffin (m. 1951), and Parcentia Rose (m. 1870-1873). He endured frequent and intimate losses,
however: his first wife, Ann, and father died around 1850; his second wife,
Caroline, died in the late 1850s; his 7-year old daughter, Lauraitta, died in
1863; and his mother died in 1870.[v]

In Sullivan
and Sorrento since Seventeen-Sixty, lay genealogist Lelia Clark Johnson
remembers Foy as being "esteemed and beloved," and holding religious
meetings in various places.[vi]

William Foy died on November 9, 1893, and is
buried in Birch Tree Cemetery in East Sullivan, Maine. On his tombstone is chiseled the epitaph:

I
have fought a good fight,

I
have finished my course,

I
have kept the faith:

henceforth
there is laid up

for
me a crown of righteousness.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow! He has graced this movement with every
indication of His guidance and supreme regard, and has given us in William Foy
the promise that his remnant people will be of all ages and colors, and that he
will use them all mightily and pivotally.

Truly, "We have nothing to fear for the future,
except as we shall forget the way the Lord has led us, and His teaching in our
past history."[vii]